


Tell Me it's Real

by MagicAndSparklez



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Kierarktina, Multi, Post-Book 3: Queen of Air and Darkness, Spoilers, Unseelie Court, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17045984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicAndSparklez/pseuds/MagicAndSparklez
Summary: QOAAD SPOILERS AHEAD!I needed more kierarktina, so I took it into my own hands to write. Here y'all go... more description in story as to not spoil anyone just browsing!Short and sweet one-shot





	Tell Me it's Real

**Author's Note:**

> Last chance to turn back if you don't want to have QOAAD spoiled!
> 
> After his ascension to the throne, Kieran has fallen lost in his thoughts. He longs for his loves, but remains restless, even with them by his side. His mind is a mess, he struggles to hold onto the reality that he has desired for so long.
> 
> This takes place just shy of a year after the end of QOAAD. Another thing I'd like to note: this is loosely based on Seafret's song of the same name (and by loosely based, I mean I listened to that song like 80 times and got inspired to write this fic) and I would reccommend listening to it at some point!

The triad lay together in Kieran’s bed. The cottage always felt empty when he was alone, awaiting his loves. Mark and Cristina were constantly busy with the alliance, and Kieran with the Court. It had been a lengthy break since the three had been united, and they basked in every second that they had together.

Fortunately, Mark and Cristina were able to arrange for time where they could take a short leave from the alliance. They had finally gotten a stronger structure established, and all the busy work was beginning to settle into smaller tasks—settling a fight between some Fae here, aiding a werewolf or two there—and they could finally take time to themselves.

Kieran, on the other hand, never could have a break. He was overwhelmed by more and more royal duties, even the occasional invitation to revels and events that he had no interest in attending. Life felt lonely without his loves, and he was getting lost in his mind.

When he and Mark had been in the Hunt, the only escape from their minds they had were each other. Kieran knew he couldn’t blame Mark for being away when he was, but he felt a deep sadness when they were separated. And now with Cristina, every time he felt an ache, his mind demanded her touch. She had been a comfort to him ever since he laid his eyes on her. When Kieran had the two of them by his side, he felt indestructible.

But as of late, his mind was wandering. _Do they truly love me? What if they must leave? Am I too much? Perhaps not enough?_ The thoughts would play through his mind when he tried to sleep. He knew that bags had begun to form under his eyes—something scarcely appearing in the features of a faery—he knew that his mind was going somewhere he did not like.

And now that they were all together at last, Kieran had thought his mind would be at ease; but this was not the case. Despite the comfort that they brought to him, he remained restless and laid awake.

 _What if this isn’t real,_ he contemplated, _what if none of this is real?_ He looked to Mark, fast asleep beside him, his golden locks framing his angelic face. He then to Cristina on his other side; he had an arm around her, her head was resting on his shoulder, and her arm was slung across his torso. _I ought to be happy_ , he thought to himself, _I have everything I could ever need in my life_.

Mark stirred beside him, his brows furrowing as though he were deep in thought. Kieran felt Mark’s legs twitch, something that he had grown accustomed to. Mark was and had always been a restless sleeper—at least as far as he was aware. He had gotten used to Mark thrashing in his sleep for the first months they shared together. It took a considerable amount of time before he would settle, and sleep without waking up screaming for his family.

The love Mark had for his family, and the love they had for him was something Kieran had secretly always felt an underlying envy for. No one in his family loved him. His father gave him away to the Wild Hunt because he felt _threatened_ by him. Kieran didn’t choose to be kind to his people; he simply saw someone in need, and gave them what they required. It was nothing hard to understand, and yet he would always be punished for it.

He built a fortress in his mind, somewhere he would retreat to during lashings, and beatings from his brothers, and father. He never wanted to go back to that place, but during the past weeks, his mind was beginning to retreat. He had the same thing happen when he entered the Hunt. His mind locked itself up, protecting himself from the frailty of his emotions. Kieran swore when he was cast out of the Courts that he would never return—there was never supposed to be a way to anyway. But he also swore that he would never feel love for anyone. He had only loved one being, and that had been his birth mother. She had been kind to him, she taught him what it was like to be loved and cared for. Even though he was a child, he still cherished the memories of her. He remembered when his father tore him away from her, he remembers hearing that she had been killed, remembers being taunted by his brothers for growing up _weak_. He never wanted to love because he never wanted to feel the pain of losing the love he gave so fiercely.

But then he was given away to the Hunt as though he were a pawn in a game he never asked to play. He fell in love with the blond angelic boy that was Mark— _his Mark._ Even though it took time before they ever so much as spoke, he would always be sure that he knew Mark was safe. Kieran slowly would make sure he set up camp closer and closer to Mark each night until eventually they set up together, sleeping side by side. It was at that point he told Mark about his mind, about his mental fortress, and then learned about Mark’s. He felt an understanding that he had never felt before from anyone. He felt loved for the first time since his childhood, and he felt grateful that he had someone who truly cared for him. He felt as though he truly had something in his life that was right for once—as though he could believe that he was needed.

Even years after, Kieran could still remember Mark waking up, tears in his eyes, yelling out for his brothers, his sisters—even his parents sometimes—and he remembers taking Mark in his arms, whispering _it isn’t real, none of this is real._ One night, after many of staying side by side, he looked into his eyes, glassy from unshed tears, asking if _he_ was real, if Kieran was truly there and he wasn’t in a cruel dream. That had been the first time that they kissed, the first time he felt a spark of what was soon to become a love that burned with the intensity of wildfire.

 _“Are you in the fortress again?”_ Kieran nearly jumped, unaware Mark had awoken. “Kier?” Mark reached a hand from under the soft blankets to touch the king’s face.

Kieran closed his eyes, leaning into Mark’s touch, “you know me well, my love,” he spoke softly, hoping not to awaken Cristina. “I cannot handle it all on my own,” he confessed, shame lacing into his words.

Mark leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You can,” he slid his hand from Kieran’s cheek to his jawline, tracing it to his chin, “you just need time to adjust.”

“We will figure it out,” it was Cristina, suddenly joining the conversation.

“I’m sorry to have woken you, Lady of Roses,” Kieran apologised.

Cristina shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her—she always loved when he called her that. “Kieran, I could feel your heartbeat, I knew you weren’t sleeping before—and if you were, it was not well—but I didn’t want to bother you,” she confessed, biting at her bottom lip.

“Have you been awake this whole time?” he asked, curious.

She simply nodded in reply, “I thought you may have needed time to yourself.”

Kieran shook his head, “I’ve had far too much of that,” he stated, poison in his words.

Cristina and Mark both looked at each other from across the bed, shock visible in their faces. Before they could react, Kieran pushed himself up into a sitting position. He drew his knees into his chest and leaned his head to rest on them. “I shouldn’t be like this.” Kieran shook his head, the tone in his voice undetectable. “I understand if you must leave me behind.”

Mark and Cristina both sprang up, their eyes filled with concern. “Kier, why would you say that?” Mark asked, distress evident in his voice.

His voice shook as he tried to speak, “what if you cannot return?”

Pain struck Cristina’s heart. The words were coming from nowhere, she was beginning to fear that she had done something wrong. Though they had only been together for just short of a year, she couldn’t imagine a life without Kieran. Even though her and Mark were fine as a pair, Kieran was a missing piece that completed them. She wouldn’t be able to have one without the other. If they couldn’t return, then she would find a way so that they would never have to leave in the first place.

It took a moment before anyone spoke, but Mark’s words broke the silence “then we don’t return.” He stated it as if it were a simple fact.

Kieran looked up at Mark, furious. “Then why taunt me by being here?” he begged, his eyes spilling over with a small but steady trail of tears. “Why did you come when you do not wish to be here?”

“I never said I did not want to be here.” Mark’s tone was steady still. “If we cannot return, we will not return,” sensing Kieran was about to interject, Mark raised a hand to silence him, “if we cannot return, we will remain here. We will fight to stay every day. If we cannot stay, we will find a way to take you with us.”

“You say this like is it so simple,” Kieran put his head in his hands, “if I could leave with you, I would have already.” He dropped his hand and bowed his head, his forehead meeting his knees again.

“Kieran,” Cristina put a hand on his shoulder. She was sitting in front of him on her knees, her brows knit together in worry. “I love you— _we_ love you—and love finds a way.”

Kieran’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again: “what if this cannot? What if _we_ cannot? What if this cannot be a reality?”

Mark put an arm around Kieran’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. “This is real,” he whispered to him, “every part of _this_ is real,” he grabbed Cristina’s other hand, fully connecting the three of them together.

Kieran had looked up, his bicoloured eyes glassy. “Then tell me again,” he said, his voice weak. _“Tell me it’s real.”_

Cristina leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, _“this is real.”_ She traced her lips from his cheek to his lips, _“this love is real,”_ she spoke softly as she pressed her lips to his.

Mark leaned into Kieran, kissing his jawbone. He traced a trail of kisses to his collarbone, sucking gently. Kieran let out a low moan, a hand lacing into Mark’s hair as his lips moved against Cristina’s.

It seemed strange for a moment to Kieran: kisses and touches could mean nothing to some, but from them, he knew that they were promises—promises that whispered _we’re real,_ _this is real, we will stay,_ and _we love you_.

They had rearranged themselves, Mark had pulled Kieran into his lap, kissing the back of his neck and shoulders, and Cristina sat facing Kieran, her legs straddling his. He leaned back, turning so his lips met Mark’s. Cristina remained seated on Kieran, her gaze intent on watching her boys. She still had found a fascination and adoration in watching the pair of them. She knew it was the same for all of them. To watch one with the other was always something they all found intriguing, not only in a romantic way, but in a curious way too.

Kieran broke away from his loves, out of breath and disheveled. His eyes were wild, his heart was beating faster, and he looked back and forth at the other two. His heart felt happy. He was engulfed in love and admiration by his Nephilim, he was feeling his mind clearing. The simple presence of them brought him out of the fortress of his mind, the wordless promises whispered between kisses made him forget about it.

Life felt surreal, when he was with Mark and Cristina, he finally felt a sense of belonging. He felt loved, he felt cared for. Even though he was the King of the Unseelie Courts—even though he was important to the fate of his people—he only ever wanted to be important to these two.

The triad’s gazes met and went to the next, Mark wrapping his arms around him and Cristina. Cristina repeated the same, enclosing her arms around Kieran and Mark to the best of her abilities, holding them together tight. He wished he could stay there forever, entrapped by the loves of his life. He knew that Kinghood would bring him complicated conflicts, but he realised that it would be nothing that he couldn’t get through when surrounded by those he loved so fiercely.  


Kieran opened his mouth to speak, his voice soft as though his words were glass and anything louder could shatter the promise he held when he said: _“I love you.”_

The pair echoed him, their voices laced with just as much promise and delicateness. 

_“I love you.”  
_

_“I love you.” ___

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, it's a tad out of character at some points, but I tried. I hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless! I'd appreciate any constructive criticism if anyone has any, and if y'all have any fic requests, I would be happy to hear from you guys!


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